


Contagion

by End_Transmission



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28817472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/End_Transmission/pseuds/End_Transmission
Summary: As an Impostor, Cyan has seen blood aplenty, he's seen - and eaten - more organs than he can count. He's counted bones and tasted bile - he may very well know human anatomy better than most humans.Which is why the discovery of flora in his newest kill baffles him. Cyan has never seen anything like it - and cannot even begin to prepare himself for what the discovery means for him.
Relationships: Crewmate/Impostor (Among Us), Cyan/Red (Among Us)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 129





	Contagion

**Author's Note:**

> Rated for Hanahaki themes and the gratuitous gore and body horror that goes hand in hand with that. If you're new to my works, Cyan's name is Trep and that is largely what is used to identify him in this work.

Trep had never seen anything like it. 

The cyan-suited Impostor was crouched down next to his newest kill, and he was staring in absolute fascination at the foreign matter that was scattered in the gore. There were the familiar things - blood and organs and the remains of a stained blue suit - but there were also _flowers_ and petals and stems - some of which were so long they seemed to have followed the winding paths of the human's blood vessels. 

"Thank you," Blue had choked out as Trep had made the final blow. Thank you. That was not the normal human response to impending death. 

Gingerly, Trep plucked a blood-soaked flower from the remains and held it closer. He didn't recognize the species - but he didn't know the names of most of earth's flora. He did know - or at least, thought he'd known - that said flora didn't belong within a human's body system. 

"What the hell _is_ this?" He muttered to himself. Before he could explore the body any further, he heard the sudden sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. Trep let the flower slip from his fingers, and made his way smoothly for the vent in the corner of the room. He slipped through seconds before the other humans arrived - and he continued to muse over the scene even as Green's horrified yowl cut through the air. 

Trep would have to try and look more into this strange finding later. 

* * *

He didn't have to look into it, as it turned out, he needed only to watch. It was only a couple of days after Blue's death that Green became ill. It started as coughing, complaints of chest pain - normal signs of human sickness even if such things were uncommon in space. Trep didn't even think much of it - at least, not until it suddenly took a turn for the strange. 

One evening, Green had a coughing fit so violent he ended up on his hands and knees on the floor of the cafeteria, helmet forgotten as he hacked. Every single one of the onlooking crewmates - Trep included - went still when, suddenly, petals exploded from Green's mouth in a burst. Trep stared in fascinated horror as they were followed by an entire flower head - the stem of which seemed stuck deep within Green's throat. He gasped around the intrusion, finally reached up and tugged it free - much to the cringing disgust of the crew. 

"Alright, clear out, all of you," Captain Red suddenly commanded as he got to his feet and made his way for the sickly crewmate. "Come on, Green. Let's get you somewhere comfortable."

"Captain!" Yellow said in alarm as he jumped to his feet as well, "that shit's contagious! You shouldn't get too close!" 

_Contagious?_ Trep thought, feeling a small thrill of alarm. 

"I've been exposed already, Yellow. I'll take care of him - but I appreciate your concern. Now out, all of you." The crew did as they were told, although their movements were slow and reluctant. Trep, of course, didn't stay away long - he found his way to the next nearest vent and slipped back. 

Red helped Green to his feet and began to lead the man away, muttering quiet reassurances all the while. Trep followed underfoot as they made their way to Medbay - sat there as Red made Green comfortable. 

"Captain, I didn't know," Green said, great effort in his attempt to speak through his sobbing. "It's not fair - I didn't know - if I'd _known -"_

"I know," Red's voice was gentle, deep, "I'm sorry, Green. I'm so sorry."

"I don't want to die," Green whimpered, before all at once exploding into another vicious sounding coughing fit. Red made soft shushing noises in return - and when Trep peered out of the grate, he could see the human running his hand softly through Green's hair. 

"I know, I know," Red said quietly, "Hush, Green. Hush now. It's going to go quick - quicker still, if you can keep them inside."

"I'm scared."

"I know. It's okay to be scared."

"Don't leave," Green begged, voice breaking from both his own sobs and another harsh cough. 

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, Green. I won't leave you alone."

Green's next words choked before they could form, and he spent the rest of the time coughing and hacking and sobbing. They were there for a few hours - and all the while Trep stared and listened on in fascinated silence. 

Eventually, the coughing became wheezing, which became gasping, dying gasps for air. A familiar sound for Trep, although it was so unusual to hear it happening for a cause he had no hand in. It was only as the noise died down that Trep realized Red had started _singing._ The words were soft, almost inaudible, but the low-tenor, rhythmic hum of his voice made it obvious. Trep strained a little closer, wanting to catch the sound - he hadn't realized his own agitation, until he started to feel it bleed away. Eventually, though, that stopped too. 

"Rest easy, Green," Red said suddenly, after a few minutes of complete silence, "I hope you and Blue can meet in the afterlife." He stood to his feet and, as if suddenly broken from a trance, Trep realized he had the perfect opportunity. They were alone, now, and all he had to do was leap from the vent, snap the captain's neck, and slip back in. Another crewmate down and without a captain, the crew would descend swiftly into chaos. 

"Whoever's in that vent," Red said, and Trep stilled at the words, "don't even think about touching his body. He's not your kill to have." He paused, and he carried a note of dark humor when he spoke again, "besides, if Blue didn't infect you, Green undoubtedly would."

Trep didn't answer - wasn't an _idiot,_ after all. He did stare, though - wondered how it was Red only seemed concerned for the _corpse._ Why he was warning the _Impostor._ There wasn't a hint of self-preservation in his warnings, and that simply didn't make any sense. Thinking that over was the only reason Trep let Red walk away - the only reason he obeyed, and left Green's body alone. 

Just curiosity. Confusion. That was all. 

* * *

Trep knew that he was letting the mystery of the strange illness distract him, but it seemed important information to know. If it were contagious, and largely contained to human bodies, then it could be a danger to Impostors. Of course, he had no idea how exactly it worked - Captain Red, after all, had claimed to be exposed, yet didn't seem to have any of the symptoms. Additionally, even if the other crew hadn't approached Blue or Green, the air of the Skeld was poorly filtered - yet no one else seemed ill. Trep himself had likely been exposed when he'd killed Blue - yet felt fine, although he couldn't be sure that wasn't just due to being an Impostor. 

It wasn't like he could _ask,_ either. The humans seemed somber and almost morose when they spoke of Blue and Green - but knowledgeable, as if this disease was just an average part of human life. Even the gossip was unhelpful - all that Trep was able to glean was that the disease had something to do with unrequited... _something._

When the Impostor found himself buddied up with the Captain, he tried to slyly squeeze more information from Red. That was even more of a dead-end, though - the Captain was tight-lipped about what had happened to his crewmates. At least, concerning the illness. He was far too interested in how Blue had come to die, though - so it was a topic Trep quickly decided to avoid. 

In the time he wasted trying to understand, Trep found something changing. It was very subtle, at first - so subtle he didn't even realize he was doing it. It was choosing to sit next to Red at meetings and meals, it was seeking out the captain even when they weren't buddied up, it was the willingness to be drawn into Red's conversations - willingness and even eagerness that surprised Trep when he realized. Excuses that it was an alibi, that he was doing it just to stay close to the captain, that it was all about inevitable betrayal Red would never see coming - they were weak at best, and after a couple of weeks, Trep couldn't even fool himself. 

He _enjoyed_ being around Red. The captain was clever, sharp - he did not shy away from banter and often returned it so quickly it could sometimes throw even Trep off-guard. Trep felt something like genuine affection for the human - and although he scolded himself for the weakness, he decided it wasn't irredeemable to want to enjoy Red's presence so long as it lasted. 

Then, one day, Red touched him casually in passing - just a brief clasp on the shoulder that was gone before Trep had fully registered it. It had lingered, though - the touch burned into his shoulder and into his thoughts until before he knew it he'd spent most of the evening thinking about it. By morning, he'd come to the decision that he wanted more of whatever that'd been - that somewhere along the line his reluctant affection for the Captain had turned into something considerably more needy. 

He felt the first tickle at lunch. 

It was aggravating - as if he'd swallowed an especially sinewy piece of meat and it was lingering in his throat. He tried to subtly hack it away - soft clearings of his throat and a cough or two. Still, it persisted - and eventually, Trep had to excuse himself to somewhere private while he worked it out. He coughed, hacked - eventually reached through his own piping with his abdominal tongue to grab the offending foreign substance. 

When he spat it into a hand, he was horrified to see the bright white spots of a flower native to his own home. It'd seen better days - was wilted and dying - but there was no mistaking it. It didn't matter that he didn't understand the disease - he'd been infected after all. 

With a spark of deep dread, Trep wondered if it'd kill him as it had Green. 

* * *

Green's progression had been quick - but Trep found his own to be slow enough he nearly stopped worrying about it. Every few days there'd be a new flower - always a nuisance, but easily cleared from his system with a bit of effort. He thought he even managed to keep it from the humans - although he caught Red giving him side-eyed glances a few of the times he'd been unable to hide a cough. 

Then, he'd called Trep out on it - and things had snowballed quickly. 

"It's only going to get worse if you don't tell them," Red said one evening, and Trep looked to the man with a frown. He was talking about the disease, undoubtedly - but his words still might as well have been gibberish. 

"I'm going to assume this isn't common among Impostors?" 

"Excuse me?" Trep asked, and he'd gone tense, then. When had the human figured it out? _How?_ And perhaps most importantly - why hadn't Red said anything to the rest of the crew? 

"I'm not an idiot, Cyan," Red answered, glancing over towards Trep then. He paused, let the accusation linger, and when he spoke again he'd dropped the matter entirely. "We call it Hanahaki disease. No one really understands it, but once infected, it will slowly suffocate a person who's caught in unrequited love -"

"Oh that's bullshit," Trep interrupted, "do you realize how insane that sounds? Unrequited love? Go ahead and pull the other one, Captain, what's next? True love's kiss is the cure? No physical disease could possibly run off of something so abstract as _love."_

"I wouldn't brush this off, if I were you. I understand how it sounds, but I swear to you it's true. Maybe _because_ of the abstract nature of it all, the disease often gets it wrong - sometimes, what's assumed to be unrequited is just _unknown._ Best to tell whoever it is you're pining after -"

"What if I said it was you?" Trep interrupted, "what would be your grand advice then?" 

"It'd be the same," Red responded, his tone gone humorless and dry, "don't be an idiot. Be flippant about this at your own risk, Cyan - but don't be surprised when it comes 'round to bite you in the ass." With that, Red turned and left - and as Trep watched him go, the Impostor sucked in a breath, and felt as it stuttered and struggled through his lungs. 

* * *

After that, the illness seemed to spread faster than ever. Red's words stuck in Trep's head - and while the captain's urging for Trep to be honest nearly convinced him, the scoffing way Red had dismissed Trep's admittedly half-hearted 'confession' kept him silent. Red had made it clear just what he thought about the mere _joke_ that Trep's interest was him - and so, Trep was sure the captain would react to a real confession with nothing but further scorn. 

It wasn't a surprise - Red was a human, and Trep had been responsible for the death of at least one of the captain's crew. The captain knew what Trep was - and even though he seemed willing to be companionable, even though he hadn't yet given Trep away, well, what else could Trep expect but disgust at the thought of them being anything more than companions. 

As Trep stood alone in a hallway some days later, barely managing to draw oxygen through his flora-filled respiratory system, knowing that he would cease breathing entirely soon enough - all he could feel was anger. After all of the missions, all of the kills, all of the humans manipulated and tricked into trusting him - _this_ was how he would die. Not by the hands of a vengeful crew, not in a grand fight to the death - but strangled to death by a disease that was only killing him because he'd somehow gotten _attached_ to a human. 

Trep hissed at the sudden sensation of a sharp, stabbing pain - and when he lifted a hand to his throat, found a fresh blossom sticking out of his skin, its petals slick with his blood. With a fresh wave of fury, he grabbed it in hand and ripped it away. He didn't expect the shock of agonizing pain that jolted through his body - he was nearly on his knees before he'd even realized he was moving. Heaving, Trep slowly forced himself back to a stand before he could collapse all the way to the ground. He lifted a hand and pressed it to his throat - felt cool blood ooze over the appendage and down along his front. 

"Jesus Christ, Cyan," Red's voice twisted something in Trep's gut, and he cursed the universe as the human quickly approached. "This is getting ridiculous." When Red reached up, grabbed Trep's hand, and made to pull it away from the wound, Trep ripped away from the human with a choked snarl. Red pulled his own hand away, but his glare on Trep was heated. Angry.

"You need to tell them," Red urged, "before this kills you. It is going to _kill_ you, Cyan - _quickly._ You may have an hour or two, at most - but if you just _tell them-"_

"Tell them, tell them," Trep mocked, meaning to snarl but barely managing to wheeze, "Have you considered what happens If I tell them, and they adamantly refuse to even entertain the idea? As any intelligent human _would?_ Have you thought of that, Captain? What then? _"_

"It'll kill you faster," Red answered, something growing temporarily monotone in his voice. With a growl that was really a whine, Trep whipped away and took a few steps down the hall - but when something shifted further in his lungs, he found himself leaned heavily against the wall. 

"It's going to kill you anyway," Red said, his voice urgent, now. He took a few steps towards Trep. "You, at least, have the _chance_ \- isn't it worth the risk?" 

"I have a…reputation to keep," Trep said, the words difficult to push through the suffocation, "I refuse to look like…some starstruck…idiot. If this is going to kill me…it will have to _work_ for it."

"Oh fuck your pride," Red said, the admonishment a snarl, "that's what's stopping you? _Your reputation?_ What use is that if you're dead?" When Trep refused to answer, he heard rather than saw the exasperated way Red threw his hands into the air. 

"Whatever. On your own head be it - I'm not going to stand here and watch you literally choke on your own hubris. I hope for your sake it goes quickly." Red turned to leave, and even as he moved, Trep _felt_ the sudden explosion of new blossoms as they clogged what little airway he had left. He couldn't help but fall fully to his knees, then, as he struggled to draw a breath - but they weren't coming at all, now. He clawed desperately at his own throat, his torso - felt blood blossom along the rivulets he left. Some noise escaped him - a whine from deep within his chest. Drool pooled from the slit at his abdomen as his true maw tried to draw breaths of its own - but there was no clear airway left anywhere in his body. 

_"_ What…oh for _fuck's_ sake, _"_ Red's exclamation was quiet and pained, and punctuated with the sudden clatter of what must have been his helmet on the ground. There was no preamble, no more words - no long, searching gaze into each other's eyes. Instead, Red was simply all at once _there,_ Trep's face was in his hands, and Trep barely had time to register the human before Red was pressing his lips to the Impostor's with something fierce and near desperate. 

It _burned._

A moment later, Trep realized that wasn't just the heat of Red's lips on his own - it was the burn of oxygen as it began to leak through his respiratory system. It trickled by, and then sputtered, and then all at once _rushed_ so quickly it left his head spinning. Red pulled away to give Trep space to breathe, and in response the Impostor gasped in heavy, ragged breaths of air - even his abdominal maw gaping as oxygen flooded his system. 

"I'm sorry," Red muttered before kissing Trep again. "I'm sorry," He repeated, and with each fresh kiss Trep was sure his airway cleared even further. His gasps quieted and left soft panting in their place as Trep stared at Red in bemusement. 

"Sorry…?" Trep asked as he tried to wrap his head around just what, exactly, was happening. He might have thought it a trick of death, a hallucination - but Red's hold on him was so _warm_ and real and his lips were…chapped, actually, but _soft_. He was still kissing Trep - and the Impostor couldn't be sure just what was making him so light-headed anymore. 

"I thought you were joking. Deflecting. I didn't think you were serious - thought there was no way you _could_ be." Red couldn't kiss and talk, but his hands still had Trep's face in a tight hold, and the dark eyes peering into Trep's own were serious. "If I'd realized - I wouldn't have let it get this far."

"You called me an idiot for even suggesting it," Trep pointed out. 

"Like I said - well. To be frank, I thought you were teasing me. Trying to hurt me, even, so that I'd leave you alone. Besides, let's be honest - you _have_ been an idiot," Red said, but then his eyes seemed to clear with something like mirth. "Then again, so have I. I'm sorry, Cyan."

Trep studied the human for a long moment, then reached out slowly to rest his hands on Red's waist. When Red didn't complain, Trep took another breath of air, then sank his lips against Red's once more. Trep knew this was not some magical ending - there were conversations they'd need to have. This meant questions, accusations, and everything that sat in-between. For the moment, though, Trep let himself be content - he allowed himself to be wrapped in the sensation of Red's lips on his own, and the sweet relief of unobstructed oxygen.

For a moment in time, that was more than enough. 


End file.
